


step into christmas

by leighbot



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21965710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighbot/pseuds/leighbot
Summary: “Hi, Corey. Do you want to come sit with the other children?”“Can my daddy come?” he asks, looking at the man behind him.“Of course he can,” Zayn agrees. He looks up and meets the relieved smile of Corey’s dad. He wasn’t paying much attention when he’d made his way through the people waiting and he’s taken aback by how close he is to the other man.“I’m Harry,” he says, standing in unison with Zayn and holding out his hand.Or, the one where Zayn's written a Christmas book for children and Harry brings his son to a local reading.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Comments: 30
Kudos: 136





	step into christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of #1dficsecretsanta, organized by [dearmrsawyer](https://dearmrsawyer.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! I was Secret Santa for this-onegoes
> 
> Title from my favorite Christmas song for no other reason than it's awesome and plays on repeat in my head all season long!

The bookshelves are tall enough that Zayn would have to climb up to at least the second shelf before he could even hope to look over the tops. There’s a large, comfy red armchair setup at the end of the long aisle with just enough open space in front of it for the twenty or so children to form a pseudo reading circle. He hasn’t gone out to the chair yet. He wouldn’t say he’s _hiding_ , per se, it’s just…

There are _a lot_ of people waiting for him.

The aisle between the shelves is wide enough to allow two rows of people to queue. He can see some people taking pictures of the setup already and hopes they’re able to get good shots without someone’s beanie or hooded parka in the way. The children are staying close to their parents for now, though Zayn knows one or two brave kids will soon take up their places in the circle and others will join. After the reading will be an informal meet-and-greet, and Zayn’s manager is redirecting the ropes used to keep the queue in order. The children are bouncing on their heels in anticipation and Jace bounces back at them, smiling and chatting with the few in the front.

The store is decorated _ad nauseam_ for both the holidays and the book reading today. Zayn’s photo is printed on cardboard cutouts placed around the receiving area with smaller cardboard depictions of the book characters strewn about. Each cutout is lit with string lights or draped in tinsel. Garland with cranberries and pears lines the shelves, the red and green bright against the snow-white tinsel stringing everything together. The decorations would be a hindrance to anyone browsing the shelves and a layer of glitter has fallen to the floor from large snowflakes hung from the ceiling. Anyone coming into the store will track a bright trail on their way out.

An insistent hand makes its way into his hair and Zayn jerks away in surprise. He lifts his own hand to swat away the touch. “Kev, leave my hair alone,” he laughs.

“Just last checks,” Kevin protests, ignoring Zayn’s hand and tugging a lock of hair. His expression is stubborn as he reaches further back for another. Zayn shoos him away again and laughs. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Yer my publicist, not my stylist.”

Kevin tuts at him and straightens Zayn’s collar before manhandling him, turning him by the shoulders and giving him a gentle shove. “They’re waiting for you.”

Zayn doesn’t let himself stumble though he almost catches a toe on the carpet. He walks out from behind the short partition that had been serving as his, well, okay maybe he had been hiding a little.

Instantly, the sound level rises and Jace turns from where he’s knelt next to the first few kids waiting. He gives Zayn a nod and stands, waving goodbye to the children and coming to stand behind Zayn’s reading chair. “It’s like you’re actually Santa and not just that you wrote a book about him,” Jace says, same as always these past few weeks, as he gets a hand on Zayn’s shoulder and squeezes. “You ready?”

“Kevin says I am,” Zayn mutters through his toothy smile, continuing to give small waves as he makes eye contact with the people waiting.

Jace’s hand stills on his shoulder in a show of comfort before he’s clapping his hands together and calling the room to order.

“You guys are so amazing to come out time-after-time to meet our dear friend, Zayn Malik!” The kids jump around and the adults applaud politely. “Zayn grew up just around the way in Bradford and he began writing when he was about… your age,” he says, pointing out a child at random. “He wrote all the time and started entering contests. He’d win some, he’d lose some, but he’d always have something new to present to his family at Christmas time.”

Zayn smiles through the story, looking around and cataloguing the people queueing up surreptitiously. There are many mums with their kids but a few dads spilling about. Zayn figures they may even be aunts and uncles, bringing their little ones for a last outing before Christmas in a few days. He turns and takes a sip of his water while Jace winds down his introductions, wiping at his mouth carefully as he meets the eye of a young parent near the back.

The lad looks about Zayn’s age with brown hair shoved under a beanie and a pretty, pink flush to his cheeks and nose. He’s got on an expensive wool peacoat in a dark shade of green. It’s buttoned all the way up to the black scarf wrapped around his throat and his leather-gloved hand is resting on the shoulder of a boy who looks enough like him to be the man’s clone.

“Hi everyone,” Zayn says on cue, waving to the room at large again. “I’m Zayn Malik. I’ve written a few books so far,” he says, modestly, “but I don’t think you lot want to hear one of those today, do you?”

“No!” The kids shout easily, no use in pretending they came to hear anything they’ve known for a year now. “Santa!” one little boy calls out. Zayn can’t see which one it was but his smile grows anyway.

“Yeah, I figured!” He reminds himself to speak carefully, no mumbling. He’d gotten into a career as a writer without knowing how much speaking in public he’d actually have to do. He might have changed his mind, otherwise. “Well, don’t worry because I’ve got a special book to read with you all today. Why don’t you all come take a seat here in the front?”

The kids Jace was charming wait for a nod of confirmation from him before rushing forwarding and crowding the front. The other children make their way between the adults, until a group of twenty or so are seated and staring up at Zayn with excitement.

The nerves don’t debilitate him anymore but he feels he sometimes needs to remind himself of that. He casts a glance around the room, needs a second of avoiding eye contact to regroup, and he sees the same boy from earlier still standing close to his dad. Zayn beckons him closer with a questioning look to the father and the boy shifts like he wants to but then casts a terrified look up. The man smiles calmly and nods to Zayn, kneeling and saying something into the boy’s ear. The boy shakes his head.

“One minute, boys and girls,” Jace says, not following Zayn’s delay. Zayn stands from his chair. “Um, Z?”

“Sorry, one second.” He doesn’t know why he’s bothering people but he doesn’t want any kid to feel nervous at one of his book readings. He steps forward to the boy until he can kneel in front of him in a mirror of his father’s stance. “Hi, I’m Zayn,” he says. “What’s your name?”

“Corey,” the boy says after a nudge from his dad.

“Hi, Corey. Do you want to come sit with the other children?”

“Can my daddy come?” he asks, looking at the man behind him.

“Of course he can,” Zayn agrees. He looks up and meets the relieved smile of Corey’s dad. He wasn’t paying much attention when he’d made his way through the people waiting and he’s taken aback by how close he is to the other man.

“I’m Harry,” he says, standing in unison with Zayn and holding out his hand.

“Hi, Harry. Come on, follow me.”

Zayn heads back to his chair and tells himself the tingle in his hand is all in his head. He curls his fingers into a fist before shaking them out again but, still, the ghost tingle remains. He takes a seat and smiles to the children gathered. “Now that we’re all seated, I can start.”

He picks up the book from his table and slips his glasses on. “Are we ready to read _Santa’s Big Adventure_?”

“Yeah!” the kids chorus in unison.

Zayn sees Harry seated with Corey snuggled up to his chest and he feels his smile soften. Harry’s tugged off his beanie and his curls are a bit damp at his temples. “Alright, let’s begin. _Santa wasn’t always the jolly old man we know and love today. Once, he was a little boy…”_

~*~

After the reading, the children are asked to draw pictures of the book’s characters. They mill around small play tables, chatting with their siblings and new friends alike, and Zayn makes his way through the adults in tandem with Jace and Kevin. The three of them practice their most charming smiles and Zayn pulls up every ounce of gratitude he has, wanting to make sure each parent or guardian leaves knowing how much their visits have meant to him.

He’s just rescued his hand from an overly enthusiastic dad when he turns and nearly crashes into Harry. “Oh, gosh, sorry!” he says laughing as he grabs at Harry’s arm to steady them both.

“My fault,” Harry says, his voice low in the whisper of space between them. They both adjust their stances, the distance growing as they settle back on their heels. Zayn drops his hand quickly once he realises they’re still connected.

“Hey, thank you so much for coming out today,” Zayn says genuinely. “I hope you and Corey had a great time.”

Harry smiles and Zayn pretends not to notice the depth of his dimple. “We had an amazing time,” Harry says, the word ‘amazing’ dragging out for a few extra notes. “I’ve not seen him come out of his shell like that in a long time. He’s a natural wallflower.”

“So am I,” Zayn confides. “This whole… you guys come out in droves and it always takes me, well…” Zayn trails off awkwardly. Harry’s brow furrows and Zayn can tell he wants to ask but is being polite. He quickly casts around the room and finds Corey sandwiched between two little girls, sharing crayons. “Corey looks like he’s even made a little group of friends.”

Harry turns in the same direction, his grin popping his dimple again. “I need to bring him to more of these, then. He loves all of your books but was beside himself when we saw a flyer for your Christmas story.”

Zayn shrugs and they move forward in unspoken agreement, both heading towards Corey’s table. “Books and stories brought me out of my shell. A bit,” he adds. “They may do the same for your boy.”

There are cups of hot cocoa and coffee compliments of the café sharing space in the bookstore and Zayn nods towards it before they reach Harry’s son. “You want?” he asks and Harry nods. He’s removed his leather gloves at some point during the afternoon and his long, tanned fingers are adorned in half a dozen mismatched metal rings. Zayn doesn’t let himself look for a wedding band.

They grab a few cups with thanks nodded to the servers and head back to the kids. Technically, Zayn’s probably spending more time with Harry than he should but he’s quickly reaching capacity for being a public persona and something about Harry is soothing. He doesn’t demand or drain any of Zayn’s energy and he’s a buffer to well-meaning parents who always want to discuss Zayn’s books and strategies. Zayn appreciates their interest but runs out of polite ways to say ‘you would be surprised how much of my success is just from me winging it’. He has no plans for his next book, just a journal of ideas that may one day be poked and prodded into something substantial enough he won’t feel like a cheat for sending it to a publisher.

The realisation that he hasn’t spoken in some time hits him and he takes one last sip of his cocoa before turning to say… something but he’s stopped by a smirk on Harry’s face. “What?” he asks.

“You’ve got a little… um… let me,” Harry switches his cup from one hand to the other, reaching forward and dabbing at Zayn’s top lip with his pointer finger. “Sorry, just some cocoa foam.”

Zayn can feel how hot his face is and he sends up a quick mashallah that his father’s heritage fights away most of the pink in his cheeks.

“That was cheesy,” Harry says after a second, his nose scrunching up as he laughs. His laugh is high-pitched compared to the deep, slow waves of his speaking voice, and Zayn finds himself laughing with him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” Zayn insists. “It was… nice. At least you didn’t let me go talk to the other parents like that. Could only imagine how many selfies I’d take before someone pointed it out.”

“I should probably let you visit with the other parents,” Harry says, as if Zayn’s admonished him somehow.

Zayn barely resists shrugging. “It’s almost time to finish up the coloring,” he says instead. “Then there’s a signing, though I don’t know how much of that the kids care about. I like having that minute to talk to them, though, get to know them.”

The kids are mostly done already, showing each other their drawings. Corey looks around and smiles when he sees Harry and Zayn right behind him. “Hi, daddy!”

“Hey, scout.”

Zayn sees the bare ring finger on Harry’s left hand and bites down on his bottom lip. “Hey, Harry,” he says in a low voice, pinching at the fabric of Harry’s wool coat and getting his attention. “Um, would you have time to be last in line and maybe grab a bite after?”

Harry nods, biting his own lip in a perfect mirror of Zayn’s. “I’m glad you asked,” he says after a second. He runs a hand through his hair. “You’re going to make Corey’s whole Christmas,” he says. “And maybe mine.”

Zayn shakes his head to hide his dorky smile and makes his way to the signing table. This chair is much less comfortable than the one he was reading in but the table in front is shallow enough he can have short conversations with each guest without feeling like he’s shouting.

He doesn’t count until there’s less than five people stood before Harry and Corey. He refuses to rush any of the chats but time stands still until Corey is jumping up to the table and passing Zayn his drawing. “I drew Elf Luther!” he says with a grin, bouncing on his feet. “See? And there’s Santa with his dad in the back.”

“Wow, I see! Did you like the story, then?” Corey nods. “You did a great job with the Elf Shoppe, it looks just like in the book. Do you like drawing?”

“It’s my favorite thing to do with daddy.”

“Oh yeah?” Zayn asks. “Does your dad draw in the lines?”

Harry scoffs. “I refuse to conform to society’s expectations of me.”

Corey shakes his head. “Daddy’s not very good but he does it with me anyway.” Harry makes a sound of offense and corrects Corey’s manners while Zayn opens a new book and signs the inside cover.

“Would you mind if Mr. Zayn came out with us for some lunch?”

“Really?” Corey asks his dad, looking between Zayn and Harry with wide, green eyes.

“That sounds like fun to me,” Zayn says. “As long as you don’t mind, Corey.”

“I don’t mind! You can share my chips.”

“Awesome!” Zayn laughs, closing the book and passing it over. “Do you mind waiting just another minute for me? I just need to grab my coat.”

Jace gives him a careful, calculating look when Zayn slips into the back behind the partition that had served as his hiding spot earlier. “Do you know what you’re doing?” Jace asks.

“I’m having lunch with a new mate.”

Kevin gives him a thumbs up but doesn’t say anything, not willing to risk the attention of the over-protective talent manager. _He’s cute_ , Kev mouths and Zayn grins.

“I can tell I’m outvoted,” Jace says with a sigh. He gives Zayn a half-smile. “Have fun and behave,” he says as Zayn snaps the front of his puffy coat closed. “Call me if you need rescuing!”

Zayn heads off with a nod and skids to a stop right before the door where Harry and Corey stand, both of them bundled up again for the cold weather. “Let’s go get some chips,” Zayn says, rocking back on his heels in excitement.

“And some food with sustenance,” Harry says gamely, frowning at the twin looks of disinterest Zayn and Corey cast his way almost immediately. “Oh, boy.”


End file.
